His Escape
by Philosopher Fictionist
Summary: The team returns home after a particularly troubling case. There's only one place Dr. Reid feels safe enough to escape to cope. Very strong M for sexual situations. One-shot.


Dr. Spencer Reid trudged up the stone stairs to the front doors of a brick building, feeling like his faded orange Converse sneakers were filled with lead. His head rested against the door frame as he lifted his hand to press the button to buzz apartment six at the upper level. Had he been paying attention to his surroundings, he would have seen a curtain three floors up twitch aside. At this point, he was too tired to care. It was nearly one in the morning now, and he'd decided he'd be perfectly content to fall asleep right where he was, leaned against the door of an apartment building that wasn't his.

The plane had landed half an hour ago, and all of his fellow BAU agents were absolutely fried. The case had technically ended well, with the capture of a particularly nasty unsub and the rescue of his most recent target. Rossi had given them all a pep talk on the flight home, reassuring them all that, no matter how insistently none of them felt right about the situation, that wasn't their fault and they had done everything in their power to end it as quickly as possible. The little girl that had been taken on the flight out had been rescued, and their jobs had been done incredibly efficiently. But none of that alleviated the weight of what had happened. By the time the team had arrived, that little girl was the third victim that had been identified and connected to this particular killer, and she was fortunate enough to go home to her parents. But by the time Garcia had dug into the pile of missings in surrounding states, eight more little girls had been connected. Every single one of them was the child of a cop.

The iron gate securing the apartment building's entrance buzzed and then clicked, and, with a heavy arm, he reached out to pull it open and duck through the door, just as it began to rain. The strap of his go bag dug into the muscle of his shoulder, and he mindlessly adjusted it as he started up the stairway, the wooden steps creaking under his weight. The faces of the children taken too early flashed through his mind as he rounded the corner to the second landing, and his steps faltered as his eyes closed in pain only briefly. Attempting to stifle a heavy sigh, he reached out for the banister to help guide himself up the remaining stairs. That one loose board creaked loudly as he shuffled over it, and the door at the end of the hallway opened.

She didn't say anything as she watched him walk toward her slowly. Had he looked up from his feet the moment he heard her open the door, he would have seen the smile lighting her features slowly fade as her brows knitted, eyes darkened, and the corners of her lips dropped into a concerned frown. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, sneaking a deep breath in through her nose as he stopped at her side, an arm's length away. The distance between them was filled with tension, and her heart broke as his eyes slowly lifted to hers. Her head tilted to the side, and he couldn't stand the worry in her expression, quickly looking away. She clicked her tongue at him, reaching out to bury her fingers into his hair as she pulled him to her, her other arm fastening around his waist. He deflated slightly, his arms pulling her tightly against his chest as he dropped his head to bury his face into the side of her neck.

"I'm sorry it's so late," he said quietly, closing his eyes as her scent invaded his senses.

"You don't ever have to apologize to me," she answered, her voice equally as quiet. A warm flutter assaulted her belly as the feeling of his arms circling her settled in – it had been too long since she'd been in his embrace. She squashed that emotion as quickly as it arose, pulling away slightly to settle both hands against his cheeks and lift his face to look into his eyes. She raised a brow at him, a silent question, and he nodded only slightly, a tiny smile reaching his lips but not his eyes. Another slow, deep breath left her as a sigh.

"It's been a while since I saw you last," he stammered, looking away again and shaking his head. "I'm sorry about that too."

"Spencer –" she started. His eyes met hers once more, and the expression in them made her words die in her throat.

"I have a lot to apologize for," he whispered. She shook her head slightly, and he looked away, his eyebrows furrowing. "I just... I had a really tough case and couldn't think of anywhere else I could go. I should have called first."

"Did you come straight here?" she asked. He nodded. "Have you eaten?" He took a breath to answer, then just shook his head. "Then come in and eat something," she suggested gently, taking a step away from him and reaching out for the door to close it behind him. His arms kind of lingered in the air for a moment before he dropped them to his sides and complied. She managed a small smile, reaching out to grasp the strap of his go bag and slip it from his shoulder, settling it on the floor next to the front door as she shut it quietly and flipped the lock.

"I don't have much appetite right now," Reid admitted quietly.

"It's no trouble," she insisted gently. "I've got some leftovers from that little Greek place down the street. They're great cold, I promise."

"I didn't come here for that," he said, reaching out to slip a hand around her waist, leveraging her hip to pull her against his chest once more. She cocked her head to look up at him from under concerned brows, but gave in to his strength and settled her cheek against him, nuzzling her nose against the hollow of his throat.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly, eyes closing as his arms closed around her once more, trapping her arms between them. She felt him shake his head against hers and nodded.

"Not yet," he sighed. "Have I ever told you why?"

"Why what?"

"You." She pulled away suddenly, as much as she could in his grasp, and he stared into her face while somehow managing to avoid eye contact. "Why I come to see you when I do. Why I chose you. Why –" he cut himself off with a slight shake of his head, closing his eyes slowly and pressing first his lips and then his forehead to hers. He let out a slow, measured breath. "You're my escape, Lynn," he whispered, tilting his head so that the tip of his nose also touched hers, nuzzling slightly. Her eyes closed, brows knitting together despite her attempts to keep her expression neutral, knowing he could feel every twitch of emotion in her face. "My safe place." She took a breath, but he lifted his hand, settling his thumb lightly against her lips. It was only for a moment, and his thumb traced the edge of her lower lip as he slowly slid his hand to cup her cheek, tilting her head back as his lips descended on hers. Her fingertips, trapped between her chest and his, dug into his shirt as much as they could, tingling to get to his skin as his lips softly cradled hers.

It wasn't demanding. It wasn't needy. It wasn't hungry. Not desperate or directed. Nor was it possessive. What it was was confident, comfortable, and content. The energy in his kiss set her senses on fire, his lips slowly and softly moving against hers, shallow but far from chaste. It was this kind of kiss that really took her breath away. It was the kind of kiss that he only used on her when he had her completely trapped against him. He knew the effect it had on her, but wouldn't let her get into a position to express the desire that it lit. This was the kiss he used to tell her something, and he made damn sure she was in a position where she had no choice but to listen to him. It drove her nuts in every sense of the expression.

When he pulled away, he settled his forehead and nose against hers once more, breath slightly quickened, arms quivering barely noticeably, finger pads digging into her skin only slightly more deeply as his hand curled below her ear to hold her against him. "This case really shook me up," he admitted, his voice tight. "I know that I need to process it. To talk about it. And I will," he promised, nodding for emphasis as though he thought she wouldn't believe him. He swallowed thickly, relinquishing his hold on her for just a fraction of a moment to rearrange himself, trapping her face in his hands by gently cupping both cheeks in his palms before sliding his fingers into her hair. "I know that running to a lover for sex isn't the answer, and probably isn't at all a healthy response to a situation like this, but right now, all I want is you." Her belly clenched, body finally realizing her arms were free but not able to do anything but cling to him, her fingers digging into his hips as her brain desperately tried to keep her knees from buckling under her at the way he was looking at her - so open, so emotionally raw, so honest. "Is that alright?" he asked quietly, almost timidly, a quality she'd never heard in his voice. His eyes searched hers as she lifted onto her toes to press her lips to his, but he leaned away, managing a small smile at her confused blink. "I really need to hear you say it," he pleaded in a whisper.

"Yes, Spencer," she said, matching his whisper. "Yes, that's alright." He leaned forward slowly, watching her eyes close as his lips hovered a breath away from hers. She waited, what seemed like hours but was really only a few seconds. His eyes flitted quickly over her face, and he felt her pulse race beneath his palms, her chest pressing against his as her breath quickened. He knew she could feel how badly he wanted her right now, as closely as their bodies were pressed together right now. A quiet moan vibrated in her throat as his lips finally met hers once more, as calmly and sweetly as before. Her fingers curled around the belt loops in his khakis, pulling his hips more firmly against hers to elicit a groan that bordered on a growl.

His hands left her hair, sliding down her back to her waist and over her backside, returning the fierce grip as he gave in and deepened his kiss. It was still slow and controlled – he had more to tell her in the only way he'd really figured out how, as words continued to fail him. Her fingers left his belt loops, gently jerking his shirt tail free from his pants to slip her hands underneath. His skin burned where her palms and fingers skimmed along his sides, but somehow goosebumps rose and he fought the urge to shiver. He turned her carefully to walk her backwards toward the bedroom, his hands mirroring her movements, to slide under the tank top of her pajamas. Her back arched into him as he slowly slid the material up, her hands reluctantly leaving their exploration of him as she lifted her arms to allow him to slide her shirt over her head. Cotton whispered as he dropped the garment to the floor, his fingers joining hers in their quest to free him of his shirt.

The moment he felt his sleeves slip over his hands, his arms went around her once more, pulling her bare chest to his and his steps faltered. They paused in the middle of her hallway, lips still moving slowly. He pulled away only long enough to tip her head into his chest, just holding her tightly against him as his hands explored the soft skin of her back. Her fingers traced his shoulder blades with feather light pressure, prompting another bout of goose flesh to rise on his skin. "That tickles," he chuckled, smiling as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

He felt her cheeks twitch up into a smile, and she hummed at him, but answered by digging her nails into his skin and dragging them down his back. He let his head drop backwards, drawing a sharp breath as his eyes squeezed shut. It didn't hurt, but he found the contrast between this new sensation and the tickle she'd previously been tracing over him... well, interesting. She rubbed the scratches away slowly, lifting her head to look up at him as he finally returned to her and lifted his head to look down at her, eyes afire. He took a slow breath and held it as if he was going to say something. She quirked an eyebrow at him, her challenge face. "You know," he said, lowering his lips to hers once more for quick, shallow, teasing tastes. "I'm trying to tell you something here, and you're distracting me." His voice held a hint of amusement.

"You've not said a word," she chuckled quietly.

"There's more than one way to communicate," he said, the humor draining out of him as he captured her lips insistently, finding his feet again and continuing down the hall, steering her through a door without bothering to flip the light switch. His fingers slowly traced first along the waist band of her pajama shorts, then ventured underneath, slowly sliding the material over her hips to pool around her ankles. She felt his groan as he realized there was nothing underneath. She smiled against his lips, but it didn't last, a gasp escaping her as his teeth closed gently on her lower lip to prompt another low moan out of her, distracting her for just a moment from trying to figure out how to undo the button on the fly of his khakis.

He chuckled, letting his fingertips drag along her skin as he moved to help her undo his pants, burying his fingers in her hair to tilt her head back and trail his kisses down the side of her neck as he let her push his pants and undershorts over his hips. His hands found hers as she reached for him, sliding up her arms to her wrists as he lifted her hands to circle his neck before sliding back down to her hips, gently guiding her backwards. The back of her knees hit the side of the bed, and he lowered her gently onto her back, sliding up the mattress along with her until her head rested on the pillows.

Only a fraction of light from the living room spilled through the hallway into the bedroom, just enough for his eyes to drink her in. He lifted one of her hands to his lips, softly kissing the pad of each finger, the palm, and then the inside of the wrist before lifting her hand once again and guiding it toward the wrought iron headboard, gently curling her fingers around one of the artful scrolls of metal before letting his fingers lightly trace along the inside of her arm and down her side, skirting the curve of her breast. His eyes flicked up to hers quickly before he repeated the process on the other side.

He quickly pressed a soft, light kiss to her forehead, then slowly made his way down her body. Her eyes squeezed shut, mouth falling open as his head diverted to first one side then the other, his lips, tongue, and teeth torturing her as she clung to the headboard with trembling hands. Her back arched away from the mattress, giving him room to slip a hand under her lower back, fingers digging in briefly before sliding down and around to her hip as his lips left her breasts and continued to trail lower. He nudged her knees apart with one of his, quickly lifting himself up and over to settle between her legs.

His hand trailed from her hip down to the outside of her knee before tracing its way up her inner thigh painfully slowly as he slipped a little further down the bed. He glanced up at her as his teeth closed on the skin over the bony protrusion of her hip, stifling a groan as she took her lower lip between her teeth, brows knitted together and eyes squeezed shut. Her eyes popped open as his lips found the inside of her knee, kissing first, then gently scraping his teeth over the skin there as well. His other hand slid over her other hip and along her side to find the swell of her breast. He continued his kisses along the line his fingers were drawing up the inside of her leg, hand retreating when he got almost close enough to the part of her that he knew was really craving his attention at this point. Distracting her with another carefully placed, gentle bite, he lifted her knee onto his shoulder and dragged his lips toward the apex of her thighs. He heard her hands leave the headboard, felt her shift her weight to sit up.

"Spencer," she started, suddenly losing her voice as his tongue delved slowly between her folds. He turned his head slightly, tracing his tongue along a tendon on the inside of her thigh, which protruded due to the arrangement he'd guided her leg into. Her breath audibly hitched as he scraped his teeth over that same tendon, and his eyes flicked up to her face.

"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his brows into a question. "Were you going to say something?" He continued with sweet, quiet kisses on the inside of the other thigh.

"Spencer, you don't have to –" she started once more, gasping as he settled against her, the flat of his tongue moving slow circles against her. Her elbows gave out, and he smirked against her flesh as she flopped back into the pillows and gave in to him. The noises she was making for him were delicious, and he looped his hands under her legs to hold her hips against him as he changed the pressure and cadence he used to lap at her. His own breath quickened once more, his erection throbbing almost painfully now. She was intoxicating. He couldn't hold back a gravelly groan as her back arched away from the mattress, face contorted almost painfully. "Oh God, Spence," she gasped, hands twisting into the comforter. His grip on her hips tightened as she shattered against him, hips rolling with abandon, her cries muffled into the pillow she'd pulled over her face. He let his tongue slow as they both rode out the last throes of her orgasm, her moans quieting to vocalized gasps.

As she tried to catch her breath, he reached over her and slipped a hand into the drawer of the side table, quickly disposing of the wrapper and rolling the condom into place with one hand as he dragged the other forearm across his face. She still had the pillow clutched to her face, chest still heaving, legs trembling as he settled his hips between hers. He didn't bother to try to hold back a quiet chuckle as he reached out to tear the pillow out of her hands. The chuckle died in his throat and his smile fell as he reached out to cup a hand against her cheek.

"Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" he asked quietly. She shook her head, managing an embarrassed chuckle as she lifted a hand to wipe the tears from her eyelashes. "Lynn?"

"I'm okay," she whispered, choking back another sob and rolling her eyes at herself. His brows knitted together in concern, and she shook her head again, waiving a hand at his worry. He caught her hand, lifting her palm to his lips, his eyes closing as her fingers slipped along his cheek to tangle in his hair. "I'm fine, Spencer," she whispered again, pulling his lips to hers.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his words muffled by her kisses. She nodded against him, lifting her hips to grind against him, eliciting a groan. His hand settled on her hip, holding her firmly against him for a moment before rolling his own hips against hers to find his way into her. Her breath left her in a quiet gasp as he slowly pressed his hips to hers, stilling when he'd filled her completely. His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring and chest heaving as he clawed for control after denying himself any sort of attention for this long. She clenched around him as she adjusted to the intrusion, her hands brushing his loose curls out of his face as she waited for him. His eyes opened slowly, staring into hers and seeming to see into her soul for a few moments before he lowered his lips to hers lightly. It was another of those calm, content kisses, and his nose and forehead rested against hers as he pulled away to take a deep breath, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Do you understand what I've been trying to tell you?" he asked quietly. He felt her belly tighten against his as she lifted her lips to his once more, nodding against him.

Her lips fell from his with a gasp as he began to move his hips against hers. He sighed, a throaty sound that he couldn't have held back if he'd wanted to. His fingers dug into her hip, tilting gently before sliding down to the crook of her knee to lift her leg a little higher onto his hip as he lifted his own knee a little higher, nestling his thigh against the curve of her shapely ass. They both groaned at the additional depth that small adjustment granted him. She pressed her chest against his as his nails dragged up her thigh back to her hip, fingers pressing into the muscle as she rolled her hips against his, encouraging his movements.

His lips crashed to hers to quiet the throaty moans she could no longer contain. Control was no longer part of the picture for either of them, aside from the attempt to avoid waking up the neighbors by getting _too_ loud, but at this point, there was nothing Reid could do about the headboard knocking into the wall with a quiet thud. One of her hands slipped from his shoulder, finding purchase again in the back of his upper arm, fingertips digging in. Her back arched to an impossible degree, and her breath halted. He shook his head, settling his lips against her neck just below her ear. "No, no, no," he grunted. "Breathe for me, babe." She gasped, and then came apart in his arms once more, doing a very poor job of muffling her vocalizations into his shoulder.

It wasn't anything he'd not seen from her before, but this time the intensity level was significantly dialed up and absolutely breathtaking. He felt the familiar tightening deep in his core as her hips continued to grind into his, and his hand tightened on her hip. "God, fuck," he gasped, completely losing himself to her as her body contracted around him, sending him over the edge into nothing but sensation. A high-pitched whine invaded his ears, slowly fading into the rushing of his heartbeat. Breath heaved out of him as his hips finally slowed to a stop, arms shaking as he tried to hold his weight off of her as much as he could. Her arms tightened around him, and his elbows gave up, another groan escaping him as her legs wound around his hips and feet hooked together to hold his hips against hers. Fingers worried through his hair, and lips lightly traveled across his forehead.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, a smile in her voice.

"Better now," he sighed, squeezing his fingers to pop the knuckles and finding his grip still firmly on her ass. He gave her a light, but rather loud, pat that prompted an amused chuckle out of her. The smile lingered on her lips as he lifted his head to look down at her. He reached up, lightly tracing her features with his fingertips before settling his lips against hers, back to the sweet, content kisses. "Your orgasms are beautiful," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead before extracting himself form her limbs.

"So are yours," she chuckled, swatting at his retreating backside as he slipped off the bed to clean himself up. She sighed, stretching lazily before rearranging herself on the bed to wait for him to come back and cuddle for a while. Water ran, shadows moved in the hallway, and then he ducked back into the bedroom, sliding into bed next to her and settling onto his back, arm lifted in invitation. She curled against his side, resting her head on his shoulder, and sliding her arm across his middle to tuck her fingers in under his side. His arms settled around her, pulling her tightly to his side and pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Do you mind if I stay here tonight?" he asked quietly, settling his cheek against the top of her head. She blinked quickly in surprise.

"You're always welcome to stay, you know that," she answered. He gave her a gentle squeeze, curling his fingers around hers to pull her hand to his chest. "You never stay," she commented quietly. "You told me you don't sleep well when you're at home and even worse when you're not."

"That's true," he chuckled, lifting her hand to his lips before dropping it back into place on his chest. "But I'm incredibly tired, and I still need to talk about it."

"Are you hungry?" she asked, suppressing a smile.

"Yes," he admitted. "But that can wait. I want you right where you are right now," he said, his hand leaving hers to hook a finger under her chin, lifting her lips to his for a kiss.


End file.
